


exchange

by orphan_account



Series: help me breathe [18]
Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangs, M/M, aka jihojoon are shitbags kind of and hansol is a Good Dude for once, id love a bf like hansol i haveto be honest with you, im too lazy to tag the rest rip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:12:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5594263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The badass goth and his delicate fluffy boyfriend.<br/>(Or, where Byungjoo cuts himself loose and Hansol catches him.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	exchange

**Author's Note:**

> I FORGOT I HAD TWO MORE FICS IN THIS AU ALREADY WRITTEN so im gonna go ahead and post them today :^)  
> i promise i'll write like, a /different/ toppdogg au in the coming year. i've got two planned out well but i've just . never started them. shit  
> i've got this whole itinerary for this au and yet i keep falling back on either pgohn or hanjoo Who Am I? Who Am I
> 
> ANYWAY. as always, kudos + comments are appreciated!!!

Byungjoo tries to convince himself that he doesn’t know what these sharp looks are for.

No, he knows, of course he does. It’s jealousy, betrayal, something he doesn’t know how to soothe so he ignores it. Really, it’s not his job to soothe it; it’s not like he was ever anything particularly important to them.

Them, of course, being Jiho and Hojoon.

Part of ignoring it is keeping himself from bringing it up just to get it over with, because if he ignores it they do too. But, one day, it just… slips out.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Byungjoo asks, interrupting Hojoon in the middle of a story. They both pause, looking to Byungjoo from across the table, and Byungjoo makes a hand gesture like, _well_?

They share a look then, and Hojoon is the first to speak. “We’re just wondering why the hell you’re bothering to hang out with that shitstain when we’re right here, that’s all.”

“Mmhm, yeah, and I’m wondering why you two are so up in arms about it when you never really pay attention to me anymore anyways.” Byungjoo replies swiftly, almost surprised by how strong his voice is. Generally, he tends to waver in the face of confrontation, preferring to avoid it if he can help it. But not today.

Jiho and Hojoon know that, as well, and it seems to shock them briefly. “We don’t- we pay attention to you,” Jiho says quietly, and Byungjoo does nothing but smile while he sorts through all the things he could say in response.

“I fixed myself,” he says in the end. He receives questioning looks in response. “You- you two were there for me when I was still- still broken, when I couldn’t go a night without crying and had nightmares all the time. But, after that was over you guys just… pulled the rug out from under me.” Byungjoo laughs then, raking a hand through his overgrown hair. “Telling me all this shit about us being in love, being there for me forever. It didn’t mean a damn thing in the end, did it?”

It’s clear that they’re struggling for something to say, Jiho in particular, and Byungjoo stands up. “But, it’s not a problem, as long as you two stop being fucking jealous over something- someone- that you have no damn right to be jealous over. Get over yourselves, ‘cause I have.”

Byungjoo pushes his chair in with his foot and finds his hands to be shaking, an effect of his inexperience with being strong, not letting his voice quiver when he speaks, standing up for himself and who he is now. It feels good, but also bad, because he’s sure neither of them really meant to make him feel this way.

Byungjoo previously told Hansol that he was just an add-on, and that was true. Less of a lover, more of a child, a burden, something they needed to take care of. Now Byungjoo doesn’t know what he is, exactly, what purpose he serves in this sect. He wants to leave, like he told Hansol. He wants to leave so badly.

Byungjoo goes upstairs to his room, across the hall from Sangdo and Hyosang’s, and he makes a point to slam the door. He flops face down into the bed and groans, muffled by the comforter.

There is nothing but the pounding of his own heart and muffled talking from downstairs before there’s a knock on his door, then the squeak of the hinges as the door opens.

“Byungjoo?” comes Sangdo’s voice, and Byungjoo is moderately surprised. He sits up quickly, flipping to face Sangdo, and sees that his face is full of concern. “Are you alright?”

Byungjoo nods. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s… I can handle it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sangdo asks, coming to sit on the edge of Byungjoo’s bed. He reminds Byungjoo so much of what he’s learned a parent should be, and Byungjoo almost wishes he had this growing up instead of the streets.

But, now isn’t the time for that. “Not really,” Byungjoo replies softly, and Sangdo pats his knee in response.

“That’s fine. Whatever it is, I hope it works out alright. And if you ever need to talk, I’m here.” Sangdo’s voice is low, calming. Then, “How is Hansol? How are things with him?”

This is the first time Byungjoo’s been asked about Hansol in a positive way. “He’s… he says he’s alright, but I know he’s still dealing with things.” Byungjoo pauses, looking down at his lap. “I worry about him a lot. He’s… very different now. More emotional, he cries a lot.”

Sangdo nods knowingly, hand going back to Byungjoo’s knee. A calming dad touch. It makes Byungjoo smile slightly. “I would imagine that is difficult for him. He knew what he was getting into, but I don’t believe any of us truly realized the extent of Sehyuk’s… I’m hesitant to say madness, that’s not what it is. But, whatever it was, it ate away at everyone in that sect and I’m glad it’s gone.” A pause. Sangdo exhales. “I hope Sehyuk is doing okay.”

“Me too,” Byungjoo agrees, and almost surprises himself. “I think he was just… deluded, that’s what he was. Wherever he is, dead or alive, I just hope he’s doing better.”

“Yes, definitely. We’ll all be okay in the end, Byungjoo. Just remember that. No matter what we may do or what may happen to us, we always end up okay, even if it’s in death.”

Byungjoo didn’t know Sangdo was capable of such profound words, but they resound somewhere deep within Byungjoo. _We always end up okay_.

Sangdo stands up and leaves with one last smile and a _remember you can talk to me!_ , door shutting softly behind him. Byungjoo drops his gaze back to his lap.

After just a couple moments of deliberation, spent listening to distant words, he digs his phone out of his pocket and calls Hansol.

Hansol answers almost immediately, like always. “Hey,” he greets amicably, sounding sleepy.

“Hey, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine, I needed to get up anyway. What’s up?”

“Can we go out somewhere?” Byungjoo asks, curling a piece of hair around his finger. “I- I need to get out and I don’t want to go out by myself.”

“Sure, sure. Let me get dressed. Where do you wanna go?”

“Regular place, I guess. I’ll wait there.”

“Cool.” Pause. “Love you, stay safe.”

Byungjoo’s cheeks burn. “Y-You too.”

 

Jiho texts Byungjoo while Byungjoo is sitting in the lobby of the apartment building waiting for Hansol.

_where are you?? call me, please_

Byungjoo rereads the message a couple times before switching his display off and shoving his phone back into his coat pocket.

Hansol appears within a couple minutes, looking like a perfect mess, hair uncombed and shirt only half-tucked into his jeans. Byungjoo stands as he approaches, unable to keep himself from snaking his arms around Hansol’s neck and kissing him.

Hansol kisses back, of course, nibbling at Byungjoo’s bottom lip before he breaks away. “Hey,” Hansol breathes, and Byungjoo grins.

“Hey. Did you bring your cigarettes?”

“‘Course I did, why?”

“Think I kinda need one.”

Hansol snorts, stepping away from Byungjoo and heading to the stairs. “Why should I waste a cigarette on you? You can’t handle it.”

“Past all the coughing there’s got to be some kind of reward, right?” Byungjoo asks, following Hansol up the stairs, closing the door to the stairwell behind him.

“Well, for most people, I guess so. Why, you stressed or something?”

“I just want to make myself feel better,” Byungjoo says, almost hoping his words will be drowned out by the sounds of echoing footsteps.

They aren’t. “If that’s what you want, you should probably get a hold of some liquor.” A pause, then, “Ugh, seriously, what a bad influence am I.”

“I would be fine with that, I think.” Byungjoo says, skipping a step in order to get closer to Hansol. He smells like cologne and smoke.

“What’s got you so upset?” Hansol asks, rounding the corner of yet another landing and hopping the final few stairs up to the door to the roof.

“Being lied to,” Byungjoo says simply as Hansol unlocks the door. “Why do you have keys to this place, anyway?”

Hansol shakes his head. “Not the whole place, just the roof.”

“Still.”

“I’m friends with the owner of this place- or, rather, he… owed me a favor. He knows I need the roof, so that’s his favor to me.” Hansol stuffs the keys back in his pocket before he opens the door, a chilly gust of wind causing both of them to inhale sharply. “Well, shit, looks like I should have brought my jacket after all.”

“My hoodie isn’t big enough for the both of us,” Byungjoo says, and Hansol smiles at him.

“We’ll see. Come on.”

They end up sitting on the ledge, Byungjoo letting his feet dangle and Hansol crossing his legs. They sit in silence until Hansol lights a cigarette, hand shielding the flame of his lighter from the breeze.

“Here,” Hansol says, holding the cigarette out to Byungjoo. “This is why your sect hates me, I’m teaching you bad habits.”

“I’m letting you teach me them,” Byungjoo responds, putting the cigarette to his lips and taking a draw off it before he can think much about it. He chokes the subsequent coughs down, causing smoke to come out his nose. Hansol thinks that’s rather funny. “What?” Byungjoo asks, eyes watering.

“Nothing, it’s just… you can tell you don’t do this often. Here.” Hansol reaches for the cigarette and Byungjoo lets him take it, watching as Hansol takes a long draw off of it and then motions for Byungjoo to lean in closer.

Byungjoo does so and Hansol seals their mouths together, filling Byungjoo’s mouth with smoke. It’s strange and Byungjoo almost wants to pull away, but there’s something about it that’s so nice. Byungjoo pulls the smoke into his lungs and it seems easier to avoid coughing this way, maybe because of Hansol kissing him fervently. Maybe just because of Hansol himself.

Hansol breaks away but stays close. “Do you want to talk more about what’s got you torn up enough to risk future lung health?”

Byungjoo snorts. “Sure. It’s just… god, those two. Jiho and Hojoon.” Byungjoo leans forward to rest his forehead on Hansol’s shoulder, and based on the way Hansol stiffens, Byungjoo thinks Hansol’s still quite unaccustomed to pleasant interaction. Byungjoo really wants to get him used to it. “Everything they ever told me was just… like… momentary reassurance. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Hansol replies, tentatively reaching up to pet Byungjoo’s hair. “Like, they knew you needed it, so they said some shit they didn’t mean just so you’d straighten the hell up sooner.”

“Exactly,” Byungjoo says, muffled in the fabric of Hansol’s shirt. “Some bullshit.”

“Probably doesn’t mean shit,” Hansol says quietly, words almost carried away in the wind, “but I’d never do that. I haven’t done it before and I won’t now.”

Byungjoo stays quiet, absorbing the information. He sees Hansol putting out his (their) cigarette out of the corner of his eye, putting it back in the pack to finish later. “So…” Byungjoo begins, sitting up so he can see Hansol’s face. “Does that mean, earlier, you- you said that you loved me, is that not some shit you don’t mean?”

Hansol seems to pick his words carefully, averting his gaze for a few moments. Byungjoo shrinks closer to him when the cold breeze returns. “I- I don’t know how deep,” Hansol says at last, “but I do mean it. I care for you very much, Byungjoo, and I think I always have even if I didn’t have the, uh, the right state of mind to show it properly. I just… want you to be happy. And safe.”

“You too,” Byungjoo says, feeling a little tearful. “You’re- you’re like, all I have, and it’s so weird. Comparing this to like, what, almost three years ago now…”

“I agree, it’s damn weird. Really, I never thought I’d ever be out of the sect, let alone three years clear.” Hansol makes a noise of disbelief, then shivers as another rush of cool air passes them.

“Here,” Byungjoo says, lifting his hoodie over his head before Hansol can protest and tossing it at him. He has a long-sleeved shirt on underneath but it does little to protect him. He holds back his shivers for Hansol’s sake.

Hansol looks at him for a moment, like he wants to argue, but then pulls the hoodie on and snuggles down into it. The hoodie is big on Byungjoo and nearly swallows Hansol whole. Byungjoo quickly decides that it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

Hansol pulls the hood over his head and then turns his head to inhale. “Can I keep this?”

“Yes,” Byungjoo replies without a moment’s hesitation. It’s just a gray hoodie, it’s not like he can’t get another one.

Hansol looks absolutely delighted. “I would say I’d give you something in return, but all my stuff is probably too small for you. Maybe one of my big shirts will fit. We’ll see.”

Byungjoo nods, feeling warm despite the chilly air. “Yeah. We’ll see.”

 

“Didn’t you have a hoodie on when you left?” Sangdo asks, and Byungjoo jumps. Sangdo had previously been sitting across from him reading a book, quiet as can be.

“Uh, yeah, I… I gave it to Hansol,” Byungjoo says quietly. Sangdo nods.

“That’s cute. Was he cold?”

“Mm-hm, he forgot his jacket. I told him he could keep it and he said he’d give me something in return.”

Sangdo smiles, putting a bookmark in his book and setting it on the table. “Very cute. You two seem like you’re doing well, is there any… tension?”

“Not really. It’s more like… mutual confusion? We’re both in awe that we’re… like this. We’ve been proper friends for over a year now, and now I guess we’re… something.”

“Something?” Sangdo asks. Byungjoo sighs.

“Something.”

Byungjoo is somewhat expecting a short lecture about how Byungjoo should be careful, but all Sangdo does is flash another smile at Byungjoo and go back to reading.

 

“H-Here,” Hansol says, sounding almost shy as he holds out a neatly folded shirt. “I haven’t worn this in years, I- I bought it a long time ago. I hope you like it.”

Byungjoo takes it from Hansol’s hands, holding it up by the shoulders so it unfurls. It’s a baggy black shirt with cartoonish bats on the front. It makes Byungjoo smile, holding it close and finding that it only smells like closet. A slight disappointment. “Thank you, it’s really cute. Can I, uh, can I go put it on?”

“Oh, sure! If, uh- my bathroom- well, you know where it is.” Hansol laughs, awkward, and Byungjoo holds back his urge to call Hansol cute.

He does know where Hansol’s bathroom is and heads down the hall towards it, finding that Hansol has cleaned the last time Byungjoo’s been in his apartment. Byungjoo looks at himself in the mirror, takes in the dark circles under his eyes that won’t go away, the way his fluffy hair frames his face. He probably needs a haircut.

He takes his shirt off and slips the one given to him on, fiddling with it so it will hang correctly. It fits just well enough that it won’t completely drown Byungjoo in fabric, but it does hang off one shoulder. Byungjoo decides to leave it that way and folds his other shirt up haphazardly, emerging from the bathroom to Hansol standing anxiously in his living room.

“Oh!” Hansol says as Byungjoo comes into view, a smile breaking over his face. “It looks better on you than it ever did on me, I love it.”

Byungjoo smiles in return, nodding. “I love it too, thank you.”

“I, can I just-?” Hansol makes a vague gesture with his hands, leaving them hovering in midair.

“I dunno, can you just?” Byungjoo asks in turn, and Hansol sticks his tongue out.

“So mean. Come here.” Hansol says, hands reaching out to touch Byungjoo as soon as he’s close enough, brushing his hands through Byungjoo’s hair. “You’re just…”

“Just what?” Byungjoo asks as Hansol drags his fingertips down the sides of his face, a thumb brushing across his bottom lip.

“Just… so pretty,” Hansol says eventually. The compliment makes Byungjoo’s cheeks burn. “It takes my breath sometimes.”

Byungjoo turns his nose up. “That’s gross.”

“I know.” Hansol replies with a smile, pulling Byungjoo down to peck his lips. “I love you, I really do.”

“I love you too. But, hey… do you think I need a haircut?”

Hansol shakes his head, running his fingers through the longer bottom layers of Byungjoo’s hair. “It looks good on you, I like it. You can get it cut if you want, but I’ll miss it.”

Byungjoo has his answer, at least. He nods and kisses Hansol again. “You know, you’re, uh, you’re pretty too,” Byungjoo says quietly, hopelessly shy and awkward.

It apparently still has the same effect, no matter how awkward. “Thank you, I try my best. But, you know, my concept is supposed to be more, uh… badass goth.”

Byungjoo snorts, stepping away from Hansol to sit on the couch. “Badass goth,” Byungjoo repeats once he’s sat down, Hansol sitting beside him.

“Yes. And your concept is like…” Hansol looks over him carefully, mouth twisting in thought. “Fluffy chicken.”

“What the fuck.” Byungjoo deadpans.

“You heard me.”

Byungjoo rolls his eyes. “Awful. I’m thinking it’s more like… delicate child.”

“Uh-huh, okay. Or maybe it’s like… delicate boyfriend.”

Byungjoo pauses, staring at the far wall. “Was that an attempt at being damn smooth?”

“It was, actually, thanks for pointing it out and ruining the whole thing.”

Byungjoo grins, then, “Is that, like… a hint…?”

“You can be my delicate boyfriend and I can be your badass goth boyfriend,” Hansol says firmly, holding one of Byungjoo’s hands.

Byungjoo’s heart lurches. “So- I- we’re, we, I…”

“Do you not want to?”

“No, no! I mean, yes, I- fuck. I- god dammit. I want to date you. I want to date you, yes.” Byungjoo repeats it for thoroughness, to solidify it. “Yes.”

Hansol honest-to-god giggles, turning to press his face into Byungjoo’s arm. “I feel like I’m sixteen again,” he confesses, “except with less angry parents and less shitty boys.”

Byungjoo laughs. “We should probably do like… boyfriend stuff, then.”

“What is that?”

“Like kissing and stuff.”

Hansol takes a deep breath, sitting up properly and fixing Byungjoo with an even gaze. “Bring it the fuck on.”


End file.
